Back in Time
by Supervillegirl
Summary: AU for the fifth season. What if the key to killing Lucifer had been right in front of them the whole time? They just needed a little...relocation...to find it.
1. Chapter 1

Back in Time

Set after 5x05 "Fallen Idols"

Chapter One

Dean Winchester grabbed his soap, shampoo and a fresh change of clothes, and headed for the bathroom, leaving his little brother Sam sleeping in one of the motel beds.

_Kid could use some sleep,_ Dean thought as he turned the shower on. Halfway through his shower, he felt something hum through his body. He stopped and looked around, but nothing else happened so he shrugged it off. A couple minutes later, he was rinsing the last of the shampoo out of his hair when he heard the curtain being pulled halfway open.

"Dude!" yelled Dean. "What the hell? Some privacy, if you don't—"

Dean's voice froze in his throat as he looked at his intruder. It was a boy about thirteen years old. He had short brown hair, bright green eyes, and freckles.

_No,_ Dean thought. _It couldn't be._

But what really nailed his realization home was the amulet hanging from the kid's neck. Dean looked into his thirteen-year-old self's face, shocked.

"Dad!" the kid yelled. He darted from the bathroom.

"Whoa, wait!" Dean yelled. He turned the shower off and hastily pulled on his jeans. He darted into the other room and only had a moment to register that it wasn't the motel room before a gun was shoved into his face. The man holding the gun stared him down, anger in his face.

_Dad,_ Dean realized.

"Who the hell are you?" John growled.

_Oh, I'm your son from the future,_ Dean thought. Somehow, he knew that conversation wouldn't go over too good.

Dean put his hands up, willing his father to calm down. "Look, this is all a big mistake."

"Really?" John drawled as he began backing Dean out of the bedroom and into the living room/kitchen.

"Trust me, you do not want to shoot me," Dean said as he stumbled backwards through the doorway. "Look, I can explain. I'm—"

"Dean!"

Dean turned towards the voice to see Sam—his twenty-six-year-old Sam—tied to a chair behind him. There were welts on his jaw from small, yet strong, punches, and blood leaked from a cut on his forehead.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled. Forgetting about the gun aimed at his head, he rushed over to Sam, kneeling in front of the chair. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He grabbed at the ropes, but they wouldn't budge. "Damn, those are tight. Dad always could tie a good knot. What happened to you?"

"You jumped me while I was asleep," Sam answered.

Dean looked at him, trying to hide a smile. "You got side-lined by a thirteen-year-old?"

"It's you, Dean," Sam told him.

"I know, but he's half your age, bitch."

"I was asleep, jerk."

Dean looked around, only seeing John and Young Dean. "Dude, where's you?"

Sam looked down at the floor, his face flushing. "In the closet."

Dean smiled. "What's the matter, Sammy? Big, bad hunters scare you?" He laughed.

"Shut up," grumbled Sam.

"Or maybe you saw Ronald McDonald," Dean teased.

"Dude, immature much?" Sam said. "Don't you think we have more important issues?"

Dean looked back to see a very confused John and Dean. "Oh, I completely forgot."

"What's going on?" demanded John. "Who are you?"

"I think you already know," said Dean. "I'm Dean. That's Sam."

John just blinked. "What?"

"We're from the end of 2009," said Dean. "I know you're not gonna believe us, but we can prove it."

"If you're me, then where is this?" asked Young Dean, pulling out his amulet.

Dean closed his eyes. "I was hoping you weren't gonna ask that." He looked at Dean. "This isn't gonna help my case, but I don't have it."

"Then you're not me," said Young Dean. "I never take it off."

"Because Sammy gave it to me when I was twelve," said Dean.

"And I got it from Bobby," said Sam.

"The reason I don't have it right now is because where we're from, we're, uh…kinda in the middle of an apocalypse," Dean explained. "Our angel buddy, Castiel, is out looking for God. He needed the one amulet in the world that would glow in His presence, and it just happened to be mine."

"Please," Sam pleaded. Dean looked back at him to see Sam fixing Young Dean with a look that couldn't be mistaken for anything else: the Puppy-Dog Eyes. "Please, believe us."

Young Dean's eyes widened little by little as he lowered the shotgun. "Dad, it's him."

"What?" asked John, glancing at his eldest son.

"Dad, it's Sammy!" said Young Dean. "Trust me, no one else can make that face so good."

"That's what you're gonna go on?" said John.

"Here," said Dean as he began to approach them.

"Don't you come near him, you son of a bitch!" yelled John.

"Relax," said Dean. "I'm not." He slowly bent down and rolled up one of his jeans' legs. He turned his foot so they could see the red sun-like blotch on his skin just above his outside ankle on his right leg.

Young Dean stared and lifted his right pants' leg to reveal the same birthmark. John seemed to lower his gun an inch.

"You're thirteen, right?" said Dean. Young Dean nodded. "Remember that werewolf that sunk its claws into you before Dad shot it?" The kid shuddered. Dean turned to his side, moving his left arm across his chest. Three faint, pale lines stood out on his ribs. Young Dean lifted up his shirt to reveal the similar marks. Dean stared at Young Dean until he turned to John.

John slowly lowered the gun. "Dean?"

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Hey, Sammy, it's okay," said John. "You can come out now."

The closet door burst open, and a short kid with shaggy dark hair that came to the top of his ears came out. He had dark eyes that scowled at John and Young Dean.

"'Bout time," grumbled Young Sam, Sammy, as he strode over to them. "I can take care of myself. I'm not a kid."

"Yes, you are," said John. "You just started hunting a few months ago."

"So?" said Sammy.

"So, you're my son, and you'll do what I say," ordered John.

Sammy clenched his jaw and looked down at the floor. "Yes, sir."

Sam laughed a little, amazed at the stubborn streak that he seemed to have been born with, but he stopped as they looked at him. "I'm sorry. This isn't really funny."

Sammy looked at him curiously. "So…you're me?"

"Yeah," said Sam.

Sammy approached Sam cautiously, his fist bawled in preparation. He stood right in front of Sam's chair, staring at him. He looked at the deep freckle just next to Sam's nose, an exact replica of the one on his own face. He reached forward and yanked Sam's left collar away from his neck to look at another freckle just above his collarbone. Sammy pulled his own collar away to look down at the same mark.

Sammy moved around to the back of Sam, who tilted his head forward so they could look at the birthmark. As John and Young Dean circled around to the back of Sam, Sammy used his hand to brush the hair away from Sam's neck. At the base of his hairline was a small red line that drew itself horizontally across his skin, bisected in the middle by an oval that ran the length of the line. The three of them walked around to face the two older Winchesters.

"Surprise," smirked Dean. He grabbed a silver knife from the table of weapons and cut through the ropes on Sam's wrists. Sam bent over and worked through the ropes on his right ankle while Dean did his left. Sam stood up, tossing the rope onto the chair.

"Whoa!" Sammy said. The brothers looked at him.

"What?" asked Sam.

Sammy looked between Sam and Dean. "You're taller than him!"

Sam looked over at Dean and laughed. "Yeah, I am. It's 'cause Dean never stopped eating junk food instead of vegetables."

Dean glared at him. "Hey, don't you be filling mini-me's head with that crap."

"Don't worry," said Sam. "I don't think you're about to give up burgers."

"Hell, yeah, I'm not," said Young Dean. The older boys laughed. The five of them sat down in the kitchen at the table.

"How old are you two?" asked John.

"Thirty," said Dean.

"Twenty-six," said Sam.

"Wow," said Young Dean.

John pointed at Dean's torso. "What happened to you?"

Dean looked at the tattoo on his chest. "Anti-possession tattoo. Sam's got one, too." Dean turned to show them his left shoulder, where the handprint was still branded on his skin. "That's a little 'hello' from Castiel."

"What'd he do?" asked Sammy.

Dean hesitated. "He saved me." He got up and came back with a shirt on.

"So, what's been going on, you know…in the future?" asked John.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, suddenly very cautious. Anything they said would reveal something the others should not know. Dad went to hell for Dean, Sam has psychic abilities, Dean went to hell for Sam, Sam is infected with demon blood, Dean is Michael's vessel, Sam is Lucifer's vessel, they started the apocalypse…none of that would be a good thing to let slip.

"One thing we've learned is to not mess with fate," said Dean. "Trust me, I tried to save our family, and it did not work."

"What?" asked John.

"A few months ago—for us, that is—that angel Castiel took me back to 1973," Dean told them. "Remember that dazed guy at the diner that followed you to the car lot?"

John's eyes widened. "That was you?" He took in Dean's face. "Oh, my gosh. That was you. I recognize you now." He looked out the window, where the black 1967 Chevy Impala sat. "You were the one that convinced me to buy the Impala?"

"Well, I couldn't let you buy that piece of crap over my baby," said Dean. "Imagine what I would look like driving around in a VW bus."

"Your baby?" asked Young Dean.

"That's right," said Dean. "We get the car."

"Awesome," said Young Dean. "Sammy get anything?"

"Besides Dad's stubborn streak?" suggested Dean. He laughed as Sam rolled his eyes.

"College," said Sam. The other three looked at him. "Stanford."

"Really?" asked John, a slight smile stretching the corner of his mouth. "What happened to hunting?"

_Here we go,_ thought Dean.

"I quit," said Sam. "Went away to college for two years, got a girlfriend, scored a 174 on the LSAT—"

"Is that good?" asked Sammy.

Sam smiled. "Scary good."

"So, what happened?" asked John. "It sounds as though you're hunting again."

Sam nodded sadly. "Four years ago in 2005—November 2, 2005, to be exact—I had just gotten back to the apartment after helping Dean with a hunt…and I found my girlfriend Jessica on the ceiling."

John's eyes widened. "You mean…like your mother?"

"Exactly like Mom," Sam told him. "Fire and all."

"Oh, Sam, I'm sorry," said John. "Please tell me that we found it."

"Oh, we found it," said Dean. "A Yellow-Eyed Demon named Azazel. Killed the son of a bitch myself."

"You did?" asked John.

"And I didn't do it alone," said Dean, looking at his father.

"When?"

"Two years ago."

"Did you find out why it killed Mary?"

Dean glanced at Sam, and they shared an uneasy look. "Uh, no, we didn't."

"You did, didn't you?" said John.

"We can't tell you," said Sam, praying Dean wouldn't cave under John's authority like he always did.

"Dean, tell me," said John.

"Trust me, Dad, you do not want to know this," said Dean, sparing a small glance at Sammy.

"Dean—"

"Drop it, Dad, please," pleaded Dean.

John clenched his jaw. "Fine. What did we do after the demon was dead?"

"Um…we…"

Sam interrupted Dean. "Another long story for another time."

"So, how did you get here?" asked John.

"It must've been one of the angels," said Sam. "They're the only ones who can travel through time."

"Probably Zachariah, the bastard," grumbled Dean. "Although, what lesson I'm supposed to learn here, I have no idea."

"Lesson?" asked Young Dean.

"Yeah, I'm not exactly cooperating, so if they need to get a message across, they either pluck me through time or screw with our lives."

"You're working with angels?" asked John.

"Don't get your hopes up," said Sam. "They're nothing but a bunch of self-righteous dicks."

"Well, most of them are," said Dean. "Castiel and Anna are okay. Well, Anna's more than okay…" Dean smiled with a faraway look on his face.

"You're telling me you hooked up with an angel?" asked John. Dean smiled and nodded. "Should've known your obsession with girls wouldn't end at puberty."

Sam laughed. "You have no idea."

They all laughed until a bang echoed in the room. The door burst open, and a man stood there with black eyes. He glanced down at the salt lining the doorway and smiled. A wind kicked up from outside, and the salt began to blow away.

"Sam, salt gun!" Dean yelled. He and Sam bounded up as John pulled the younger brothers to the side of the room. Sam grabbed the salt gun as Dean grabbed a flask of holy water. John pulled out a gun, aiming it at the demon.

"Don't shoot him," Sam warned.

"I know, Sam!" John retorted.

The salt line broke, and the possessed man bounded into the room with a snarl. Sam brought the gun up and fired a round off, littering the man's chest with rock salt. The man raised his arm and the gun was flung out of Sam's hand. Dean flung the flask at the demon, dowsing him in holy water. Smoke rose as the demon screamed. Sam took the opportunity to rush the demon. He landed a right jab and a left uppercut before the demon kicked him in the gut.

But Dean was right there to drive an elbow into the demon's nose. He drove his knee into the guy's gut, making him double over. Sam grabbed the demon by one arm and Dean grabbed the other. They forced him up against the wall.

"Exorcizamus te," Sam recited through clenched teeth, "omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade satana inventor et magister…"

Sam continued to recite the exorcism as the demon flinched and convulsed. As Sam spoke the last word, the demon screamed as the black smoke flew out of his mouth. It soared out through the door, and Sam slammed it shut as Dean fixed the salt line. The host lay on the floor, breathing hard, but unconscious.

"Wow…" muttered John. Sam and Dean looked at him. "You boys make one hell of a team."

"We learned from the best," said Dean, wincing as an unbearable pain sliced through his stomach.

"Dean!" Sammy yelled. They turned to see Young Dean unconscious on the floor, a machete stuck through his stomach.

"No!" John yelled.

"The demon flung it at him with his mind," stuttered Sammy. "I…I couldn't…"

"Ah!" Dean yelled as he collapsed. Sam knelt over him, watching as a line of red blossomed from his stomach, exactly where the machete was in Young Dean.

"No!" Sam yelled.

"Sammy…save…him…" Dean gasped. "Only…way…" His eyelids fluttered and drifted closed.

"Dean, no!" Sam yelled. He rushed over to Young Dean. "How? I don't—"

"Step back," came a deep voice behind them.

Sam turned and saw Castiel in the room. He immediately pulled John and Sammy away from Young Dean's dying body.

"No!" John yelled. "No!"

"He's an angel!" Sam yelled. "He can help."

Castiel knelt gracefully next to Young Dean's body and eased the machete out of the frail body. The blood started flowing freely. Castiel placed a hand over Young Dean's heart. An amber glow emanated from his palm and enveloped the thirteen-year-old. The blood disappeared, and Young Dean sat up with a gasp. His eyes found Castiel, and he jumped up, flinging himself away from the angel.

"What the hell is going on?" said Young Dean.

"Dean!" said Sam as he headed for the older of the two. He nudged Dean, smiling, as Dean moaned and opened his eyes. "You're okay."

"How did you do it?" asked Dean, sitting up. He spotted Castiel. "Never mind." He stood up. "Did you put us here?"

"No," said Castiel.

"Zachariah?" asked Sam.

"No," intoned Castiel solemnly. "It was Lucifer."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Lucifer?" asked Dean. "He can do that?"

Castiel appeared to frown slightly. "He is an angel."

"But he's a fallen angel," said Sam. "Doesn't he get, like, demoted, or something?"

"Why?" asked Castiel.

"Never mind," said Dean.

"Wait a minute," said John. "You're saying the _devil_ brought my sons from the future?"

"Yes," said Castiel.

"Why?" asked Dean.

"I am unsure," Castiel told them. "It might be revenge, or…" He looked at Sam.

"Or a way to get to Sam," Dean supplied.

"Why?" asked Sam. "I mean, what could he possibly do _here_ that would make me change my mind?"

"I do not know," said Castiel.

"Lucifer wants Sammy?" asked Young Dean, eyes wide. Castiel opened his mouth to speak.

"You tell them, and I will banish you back to heaven, Cas," said Dean.

"What if it's not me he's trying to get to, but…" Sam trailed off as he glanced at Sammy.

"But that doesn't make sense," said Dean as Sammy's eyes widened. "If he…does that…now, he won't get out of hell in the first place."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Thanks for reminding me, Dean."

"I'm just saying, dude," said Dean, glaring at Sam. Sam looked at the floor. "Hey, don't you dare put all this on your shoulders. I'm as much to blame for this as you are."

Sam looked up at him. "You didn't know."

"Neither did you!"

"But somewhere, deep down, I knew it was wrong."

"Whereas, what I did was perfectly acceptable," said Dean. Sam looked back down at the floor. "Sammy, look at me." Sam reluctantly looked up at him. "We were both wrecked, we were both tricked, we both made mistakes. From this moment on, everything we do is for redemption."

Sam smiled as Dean's words sank in.

"What are you talking about?" asked John.

Dean and Sam exchanged looks. How much had they said?

"Nothing," said Dean.

"No, he wouldn't go after the younger Sam," said Castiel. "Sam will be needed for…" Dean gave him a look, "…other things."

"Well, that's a relief," said Sam with a scowl.

"You need to watch your other selves," warned Castiel.

"Why?" asked Dean.

"I think we've confirmed that anything that happens to them…happens to you," said Castiel. He began to turn, but Dean grabbed his shoulder.

"Hey, don't you go disappearing yet," said Dean. "Take us back. Problem solved."

"I can't," said Castiel.

"You're an angel," said Sam.

"Only the angel that brings you through time is the one that can bring you back," said Castiel. With that, Castiel disappeared, leaving Dean clutching a fistful of air.

"Aw, come on!" yelled Dean. "Give us somethin'!" He sighed as he turned to the other three. "Well, looks like we're stuck with you guys."

"We better get this guy to a hospital," said John. Together, the three of them hauled him out of the room and into John's Impala.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Come on, Dad," said Dean. "It's me. I can handle her."

"I don't know…" muttered John.

"Trust me, Dad," said Sam. "There isn't a chance of Dean even hurting her. They've got some sort of sick connection."

"Aw, you're just jealous, Sammy," said Dean.

"Fine," said John. Dean smiled as John passed over the keys. He opened the motel door and froze. Sam peered over his shoulder, and his jaw dropped. Sitting in front of the motel were two identical, black 1967 Chevy Impalas. Dean eased down the steps toward the one on the right. He looked into the front seat to see his box of cassette tapes. He pulled his own keys out of his pocket as he tossed his father's keys to his right, where John was standing at the trunk of the other Impala. Dean opened the trunk and eased up the weapons cash.

He recognized all of their weapons. He looked over at his father.

"All of my stuff is here," John told him.

"Same here," said Dean. "Cas must've brought ours back after the hospital run last night." He smiled. "Sweet." He closed the trunk and stood back, comparing the two. "Damn, baby. Twenty years, and you're still as good-looking as ever."

John laughed as he put his and the younger boys' bags in the trunk. Dean opened one of the back doors of his own car and tossed his bag in, Sam following suit. Young Dean and Sammy came out of the room and stopped.

"You brought the car with you?" Young Dean asked.

"She couldn't stand being away," said Dean.

"Where we headed?" asked Sam.

"Bobby's," said John. He looked at them. "You know the way?"

"Yeah," said Dean. He got in the driver's seat as Sam got in the other side. John got in the other Impala as Young Dean got in the passenger seat and Sammy got in the backseat.

Dean put a tape into the player, and Foreigner's "Long, Long Way From Home" began blaring on the speakers. Dean looked over to see John smiling and shaking his head as he pulled out. Dean followed his father onto the highway.

After they'd been driving for an hour, Sam sat up straight in his seat suddenly.

"Dean, head 'em off!" Sam yelled.

"What?" demanded Dean.

"Get around them and stop them!" said Sam, frantic. "Now!"

Dean pressed on the accelerator as he swerved the wheel. They barreled past the other car and got in front of them. The stepped on the brake as he turned the wheel, blocking the road. Smoke rose as their father slammed on the brakes behind them. As they came to a stop, a loud crack sounded and a giant oak toppled toward them.

"Holy—" Dean yelled as he stepped on the gas, spinning the wheel. He barely made it clear, and the tree slammed into the pavement, branches faintly scraping the fender. "Shit, that was close."

Sam moaned, pressing his hands to his temples and fumbling for the door handle.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled as he flew out the driver's door and rushed around the trunk. He flung Sam's door open as the others got out of their car. "Sammy! What is it?" He grabbed Sam by the arms.

"What's wrong with him?" asked John, leaning on the door.

"It's okay," groaned Sam. "It's passing."

Dean looked at him. "You saw it, didn't you? The tree; you saw it!"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, Dean, I saw it."

"Yeah, we all saw the tree," said Young Dean.

Dean glared at him before looking back at Sam. "But I thought…wasn't it cleaned out of you?"

"Just the excess from the past year. I think the time travel messed up my system," said Sam.

"It's never done that before," said Dean.

"I've never time-traveled before, Dean," said Sam.

"True," said Dean. "So, they're back?"

"Yeah," said Sam. "All of them."

"Will someone please explain what happened to me?" Sammy asked.

Dean sighed. "Sam…saw the tree falling."

"Yeah…" said Young Dean.

"Before it happened," said Sam.

The three of them froze.

"What?" asked John.

"Why do you think we stopped you before the tree even started falling?" asked Dean.

"You mean, Sammy can see the future?" asked Young Dean.

"It started when he was twenty-two," said Dean.

"The year your girlfriend died," said John.

"That's how they started," explained Sam. "I started having dreams of Jessica pinned to the ceiling, burning alive. A few days later…she was dead."

"Then he started having 'em when he was awake," said Dean. "Basically, if Sam gets a migraine, start panicking."

"I take it they quit from how you were talking," said John.

"After Yellow-Eyes died, the visions stopped," Sam explained.

"And now, because you're here, they started up again?" asked John.

"Yeah," said Sam.

"I'm psychic?" asked Sammy.

"I always knew you were a freak," said Young Dean.

"Shut up," said Sammy, shoving Young Dean.

Young Dean laughed, stepping out of his brother's reach. "Don't touch! It might be contagious!"

Sam jumped up from his seat and shoved past them, walking about thirty feet away and putting his hands on his hips. Young Dean and Sammy froze in mid-fight.

"Was it something I said?" Young Dean joked.

"Yes," Dean growled at him. The thirteen-year-old's smile faded as he looked at Sam. He started towards him, but Dean put a hand on his chest. "Don't. You stay here."

Dean left the group and headed for his brother, who was hanging his head. Sam knew that Young Dean hadn't meant anything by it, but Dean knew that those wounds caused by the demon blood were still fresh. He got to Sam's shoulder, not surprised to see a small tear on his cheek.

"He doesn't know," said Dean. "I'm sure he didn't—"

"I know, Dean," Sam snapped.

"Hey, listen to me," Dean comforted him. "You are my brother. There is nothing that I wouldn't do for you. No matter what you do, or what was done to you, nothing will ever change that."

Sam's knees buckled, and Dean wrapped his arms around Sam's torso. They went down to the pavement together. Sam sat on the pavement, crying into Dean's shoulder. Dean sat on his feet next to Sam, embracing his brother as Sam finally allowed himself to break down. Sobs shook his body as Dean ran his hand through his hair.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean told him. "I've got you. Everything's gonna be okay. We're gonna fix this. I promise."

Dean was pleased to see that the others were giving them some space. Sam's breathing evened out as the last of the tears trailed down his face. He pulled his head away from Dean, hastily wiping his tears away.

"Sorry," said Sam, ducking his face away from Dean.

"Don't you apologize," Dean told him. "You didn't do anything wrong." Sam gave him a look. "You know what I mean."

Sam climbed to his feet, and Dean joined him. They made their way to the Impalas, where a very distraught Young Dean stood. As they came closer, he lunged forward.

"Oh, gosh, Sammy!" exclaimed Young Dean. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking! I didn't mean it! You're not a freak!"

"Calm down, kid," Sam laughed. "I know you were just playing around. I'm fine."

"If I'm **ever** a jerk like that again, you have complete permission to hit me," said Young Dean.

Sam glanced at Dean. "Ever?"

"He means him," Dean told him.

"But he's you, genius," Sam told him.

"Shut up," Dean bit off at him. "Come on, I saw another road about five miles back. We'll go around."

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

"Hey, Dad, are they hiding something from us?" asked Young Dean from the passenger's seat as Sammy slept in the back.

"Yes," John answered. "But, if they are, it must be for a good reason. Don't go asking them about it."

"Why won't they tell us?" asked Young Dean. "I mean, we are them."

"I don't know," John replied. "But leave it alone."

John glanced in the rearview mirror at the other Impala behind them. His boys seemed to have grown up well. They seemed like great hunters, smart, independent, and overall stable. He could still see that overprotective streak in Dean that John had instilled in him since the age of four. Sam, on the other hand…

John could tell that his youngest son was a good kid with a great heart, but somewhere in the next seventeen years, he had been hurt by something. No wonder, what with hunting, not having a mother around, his girlfriend's death, these psychic visions, and the devil gunning for him…it was a wonder the kid hadn't broken down yet. Although if that brief episode at the accident site when Dean had held a broken, sobbing Sam in his arms was any clue, a complete breakdown couldn't be that far behind. John just hoped that once this war his sons were dealing with was over, that Sam could go back to a normal life he so desperately craved.

But would it ever be enough? If his sons did manage to kill the devil and save the world, would a hunter's job ever truly be done? Would his boys ever feel safe enough to settle down and live their lives, maybe start families of their own? It was the question that had been plaguing him since Mary's death. What if this life he had forced on his children had made it impossible to live any way else?

John jumped a little as his cell phone rang. He pulled it out and answered it. "John Winchester."

"Where the hell are you going?" Dean asked. "You just passed the turnoff for Bobby's house."

John took a look at his surroundings. "Sorry. Kinda got lost in my thoughts." He pulled over as the other Impala did the same. John checked for traffic before pulling a U-turn. "Your cell phone still works?"

"No," Dean answered. "I had to buy a new one at our last stop. Or, new for you. This ancient piece of crap is useless."

John laughed. "Well, get used to it. Now, Bobby's gonna be a little wary of you two, so let me explain."

"Will do," said Dean. John hung up as he pulled into Bobby's junkyard. The hunter came out of his house as John parked the Impala.

"Winchester," said Bobby as John got out. "Who is this 'company' you said you were bringing? I don't know if…"

Bobby trailed off as the second Impala pulled into the junkyard. It was parked, and Sam and Dean climbed out.

"Hey, Bobby," said Dean. Sam gave a little nod. "Nice to see you…up and around."

Bobby squinted at them. "Do I know you?"

"Bobby, this is Sam and Dean," said John.

Bobby's eyes widened. "Something aged them?"

"No," said John quickly. They looked back at the Impala to see Young Dean pulling a sleepy Sammy out of the car.

"What's going on, John?" asked Bobby.

John motioned to the older boys. "Sam and Dean here are from 2009."

Bobby stared at him. "I don't follow."

"We'll explain inside," said John.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Two days later, they were taking shelter in Bobby's house. He seemed to have taken the news fairly well, and of course had welcomed them with open arms. It was morning, and the two Sams wanted to make breakfast for everyone.

"Grab the spatula, Shorty," said Sam.

"Don't call me Shorty," Sammy grumbled.

"Well, you are," Sam told him.

"Not for long," Sammy said with a smile.

"That's right, kid," Sam laughed. "Not for long."

They laughed a little as they cooked. The other four were in the living room, pouring over research. Sam and Sammy were making pancakes, eggs, toast and bacon. The plate of pancakes sat on the counter to the left of the stove, where Sam stood cooking eggs. Sammy turned to the fridge next to the pancakes to retrieve the milk when a white-hot pain burned into existence behind Sam's eyes. His hands flew to the counter on either side of the stove as his eyes slammed shut. Sam's hand slid the plate of pancakes off the counter. Sammy turned and flung his arms out, catching the plate.

"Ha, did you see those reflexes?" asked Sammy. He looked up at Sam to see him grimacing in pain, clutching the countertop so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Sammy put the plate on the counter. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," hissed Sam as he opened his eyes. "Yeah, I'll be fine. It was just—" His knees buckled as another wave stabbed through his brain. Blinding panic shot through him as the agony burned the inside of his skull.

"Help!" Sammy yelled as Sam fell towards the floor, his head clipping the corner of the counter. The last thing he heard as darkness consumed him was Dean calling his name.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dean heard a scuffle from the kitchen, but he didn't think anything of it until he heard the cry from the other room.

"Help!"

The four of them jumped up, with Dean in the lead. Dean got to the kitchen doorway to see Sam writhing on the floor.

"Sammy!" Dean called as he rushed to his brother's side. He pulled him towards his chest, wrapping his arms around him. He looked at Sammy. "What happened?"

"He was having a headache, and then he hit his head as he fell," Sammy answered.

"Dammit!" Dean said. "A vision." He watched as Sam's body seized in his arms, trying to deal with the pain in his head. Dean pulled him closer. "It's okay, Sammy. I'm here. You'll be okay. Breathe through it. It'll be over soon. I'm here, Sammy."

The spasms abruptly ceased, and Sam's body slumped unconscious in Dean's arms. The vision was over, but Sam was still knocked unconscious from the fall. Sam's face tightened into a grimace as the pain faded. Other than that, the only movement from his brother was the steady rise and fall of his chest.

"Help me get him to the couch," said Dean. He wrapped his arms under Sam's, pulling him into a sitting position as his head lolled onto his shoulder. John grabbed Sam's legs, hooking his arms under Sam's knees. They swiftly carried him to the couch and laid him down, pulling a blanket over him.

"Someone get me a needle and thread," Dean said as he knelt down next to Sam's head. He brushed Sam's hair out of his face. Blood was leaking out of a gash over his right eye. Dean frantically looked around for something to wipe away the blood when a patch of gauze was shoved in front of him. Dean looked up to see Young Dean standing beside him with a first aid kit. "Thanks."

Dean took the gauze and placed it against the gash. Sam squinted in pain, and Dean pulled his hand back.

"Sorry, Sammy," said Dean.

Dean placed the gauze softly on Sam's forehead, gently wiping the blood away. He dropped the gauze on the floor and put his hand out. Young Dean placed the needle with thread into Dean's hand. Dean inserted the needle into Sam's skin and started stitching.

************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Sam opened his eyes, the fog clearing as he pulled himself from the darkness. He moved his head to the right, and a burn spread across his forehead. He groaned as he turned his head to the left. He heard footsteps approach him.

"Sammy!"

Sam looked up at Dean, who was leaning over him.

"Are you okay?" asked Dean.

"Yeah," said Sam. He slowly pulled himself up, Dean putting a hand on his back to help.

"Easy, Sammy," said Dean.

"How long was I out?" asked Sam.

"An hour," Dean told him. "What did you see before…"

"Us," said Sam.

"Alright, what about us?" asked Dean.

"No, not us," said Sam. He looked up at Young Dean and Sammy, gesturing to them. "Us."

"What happened?" asked John.

"They were taken…by Lucifer."

"So, he is after them," said Dean. "What else did you see?"

"Lucifer grabbed them from the Impala after it crashed out on Route 50," said Sam.

"That's just outside the house," said Bobby.

"Okay, from now on, we are on lockdown," said John. "Nobody leaves; only Bobby for food runs. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," said the four boys at the same time.

"Alright, time to gear up," said John. "Weapons check, salt lines, devil's traps, the whole nine yards."

"Dad, that won't work," said Dean. "He's an angel, not a demon."

"Well, what works on angels?" asked John.

"Only one thing," said Sam.

Dean pulled a knife out and drew a cut across his palm. He walked over to a wall of the house, dipped his other hand in the blood, and began drawing with his blood.

"What's that?" asked John.

"Angel banishing sigil," Dean answered. "Cas taught me." He finished the sigil. "There. Ready for when he shows up."

"So, answer me this," said Young Dean. "Why does Lucifer want you two so bad?"

"Dean…" John warned. "I told you to drop it."

"We have a right to know!" said Sammy.

Dean looked at Young Dean and Sammy, then up at Sam, rolling his eyes. "All we can tell you is he wants us for different reasons."

"But—" started Young Dean.

"You'll find out in twenty years, kid," said Sam.

The windows crashed in, spraying them all with glass. The six of them shielded their faces as a figure appeared in the living room.

Sam looked up at him, face twisting in anger. "You!"

"Did you change your mind, Samuel?" Lucifer asked calmly.

"Never," said Sam.

Lucifer looked at him sadly. "Then I'm afraid you leave me no choice."

Dean rushed for the sigil as Lucifer approached the younger boys. As Dean's bloody hand slammed onto the symbol, Lucifer grabbed a boy in each hand. A bright flash of light issued in the room as John lunged for his sons. In an instant, Lucifer disappeared with Sammy and Young Dean.

"No!" yelled John.

Demons came charging into the house, attacking the four of them. There were simply too many, and they all went down within a few minutes.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Sam opened his eyes slowly. His head hurt like hell; it had been the second time he'd been knocked unconscious in the last hour. He lifted his head to find himself alone in the living room.

"Dean!" Sam yelled. "Dad! Bobby!" There was no response.

*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dean felt a biting at his wrists, and he tried to shake it off. A burning spread down his arms, and he opened his eyes with a gasp of pain.

"Dean!" someone shouted. "You're awake!"

Dean looked up to see that he, John, Bobby, Young Dean and Sammy were all tied with chains to a wall in an old warehouse. He was slumped on the floor, his arms held above his head by the chains. Well, that explained the pain…

Dean pulled himself into a standing position. He could only move about five inches from the wall. "Where's Sam?"

John looked at him. "They left him behind."

Dean frowned. "Why?"

"I don't know," said John.

Lucifer walked into the room. "Ah, Dean, you're awake."

"You son of a bitch," said Dean.

Lucifer frowned at him. "Oh, Dean, that was uncalled for. All I'm trying to do is bring some order and peace to this planet."

"By killing my brother, along with the rest of humanity, in the process," Dean said.

"No," Lucifer insisted. "I don't want to kill Sam. He is chosen. He will be with me for all eternity. He'll never age, never hurt, never die…forever. It is a great honor."

"It'll kill him!" yelled Dean.

"Only if I ever leave his body," said Lucifer. Dean winced. He would give anything to keep the next words from coming out of his mouth for the others to hear. "As long as he is my vessel, that will never happen."

"You stay away from him," said Dean. "He'll never say 'yes.'"

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Lucifer. "All it takes is a little…persuasion." He looked at the others. "Your brother will give his consent."

"And how are you gonna get him here? He won't come willingly."

"You're right about that," said Lucifer. He began changing his shape. He grew shorter, his hair turned dark and long, and his face took on a youthful look. He had transformed into Sammy. "I think this should do."

"He won't fall for it," said Sammy.

"He won't?" asked Lucifer. He drew a knife over his forehead, creating a shallow cut. He began panting, his eyes widening in fear. "Sam! Help me! He's got them! He's hurting them!" Lucifer relaxed as the others froze. "What do you think?"

"I'll kill you, I swear!" Dean yelled.

"Without your consent for Michael?" said Lucifer. "I have to say, I admire your resilience. It makes my life much easier not having the 'Michael sword' gunning for me." Lucifer cocked his head to the side and turned his head as if sensing something, smiling. "Excuse me. I have an appointment with your brother." He walked to the warehouse door and looked back at them. "Be good while I'm gone." He left.

"What the hell is he talking about, Dean?" asked John. "And none of this, 'messing with fate' crap. I think fate's been messed with enough."

Dean closed his eyes and sighed. "The reason Mom died was that she made a deal in 1973 to save Dad's life. Yellow-Eyes came to collect. He bled into Sam's mouth, infecting him with demon blood. That's how he gets visions. In 2006, we were in a car accident. I was in a coma, dying, so Dad made a deal with Yellow-Eyes to trade his life for mine. He died the next day and went to hell. A year later, Yellow-Eyes took Sam and the other psychic kids to a deserted town for a 'fight to the death'; last one standing wins. By the time I found him, it was just him and a guy named Jake left. Jake stabbed Sam in the back, and he died. I went to a crossroad and made a deal to bring him back. Sam came back, and they gave me a year to live. We tracked down Jake as he opened the devil's gate to hell. Sam killed him, Dad escaped out of hell, pinned Yellow-Eyes, and I killed him. Dad moved on and we closed the gate. That's when Sam's visions stopped.

"A demon named Ruby made friends with Sam by helping us and saving our lives. Couple months later, I found out that a demon named Lillith held my contract and wanted Sam dead. At the end of the year, Lillith came to collect, and I went to hell. Ruby taught Sam how to use his abilities to exorcize demons and send them back to hell. Meanwhile, they tortured me over and over, making me an offer: to take me off the rack if I put souls on. Turns out, there are sixty-six seals that would free Lucifer from hell. The first one was broken when a 'righteous man sheds blood in hell.' Once I broke the firs seal, Lillith began breaking the others on earth. Four months after I died, Castiel dragged me out of hell and back into my body, telling me he had work for me. That whole year, Sam and I worked to stop Lillith, but Sam's abilities kept getting stronger. He learned how to kill demons. Then we found out that Sam was getting stronger by drinking demon blood. We tried to detox him, but he broke out, setting out to kill Lillith. Castiel showed up and told me that the final seal was Lillith's death. Turns out, Ruby had been tricking Sam for two years to get him to free Lucifer. Before I could get to him, he killed Lillith, Ruby told him the whole thing, and we killed her.

"Lucifer broke free, and another angel, Zachariah, told us that the only thing that could kill Lucifer was the Michael sword—the vessel that the archangel Michael has to possess to kill Lucifer. It just so happens to be me. I said no because the angels don't care how many people die during their war, and an angel needs consent to possess someone, so I remain angel free. God cleaned the demon blood out of Sam—or the excess that he had been drinking, anyway. Lucifer visited him and told him that Sam was his true vessel, but, being an angel, needs Sam's consent. Now, Castiel is looking for God, using my amulet, and Sam and I are looking for a way to ice the devil."

The others stared at him.

"Holy crap," muttered Young Dean.

"No wonder you idjits got issues," said Bobby. They all laughed a little.

"So, Lucifer's trying to get Sam to give his consent?" asked John.

"Yeah," Dean told them. "And I pray that he doesn't this time."

"What do you mean?" asked Sammy.

"Last week, Zachariah took me to 2014 to teach me a lesson—get me to say 'yes,'" Dean explained. "I met myself in the future, and he told me that, for some reason, Sam said 'yes.' Lucifer had been wearing him for a few years." He paused, unsure how to proceed. "I met him face-to-face…looking like…So, when I got back, I got a hold of Sam, and we started hunting together again. That was part of the reason he said 'yes'…I pushed him away."

"Will he say yes?" asked John.

Dean didn't answer, wondering that same thing.

************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Sam crept along through the woods, eyeing the warehouse. He could see the demons patrolling the exterior, keeping watch. Wondering if he could do it, he raised his hand, concentrating. The familiar surge of power coursed from his mind and into his body, escaping his physical confines through his outstretched arm. He felt the energy soar from his hand and through the air towards the demons. A clenching behind his eyes told him he'd made contact. Sam pushed that connection, pulling on the demons. He felt a release as the counterweight of the demons fighting in their hosts was severed. He pushed the demons down, sending them back to where they belonged.

"Sam!"

Sam spun around to see Sammy running frantically towards him. Blood ran down his face from a cut on his forehead, and he was panting.

"Sammy!" Sam called out.

"You gotta help me!" Sammy exclaimed as he stumbled into Sam's arms. "He's got 'em! He's hurting them! You have to do something!"

"It's okay," Sam comforted him. "We'll get them."

"We have to hurry!" Sammy screamed. "He's hurting Dean!" Sammy tore away from Sam, running for the warehouse.

"No!" Sam yelled as he took off after himself. "Wait!" Sammy didn't pay him any attention; the need to get to his brother was too great. Sammy disappeared into the warehouse, and Sam huffed out a breath in annoyance. Well, he did just start hunting…

Sam ran into the warehouse. "Hey! You can't just run in here! We need a—"

He froze when he saw Sammy facing away from him in front of the others, who were chained to the wall…including the real Sammy. Sam raised his gun as Sammy turned around, transforming into Lucifer.

Lucifer smiled at Sam. "Hello, Sam. Did you think about my offer?"

"The answer's no," Sam spat at him.

"Sam, I need you," Lucifer told him. "You're the only special child left. You're the only one. I can't do this without you. Will you help me restore the order to this planet?"

"You can keep talking, the answer's still no," Sam told him.

"Think about your family, Sam," said Lucifer. Sam looked at Dean. "They would be treated like royalty. I could have your parents brought back, I could heal Bobby. You will never have to worry about them again. No more suffering, no more pain, no more death…they will finally get to live their lives…for once." Sam's gaze fell to the floor as he let Lucifer's words sink in. "What do you say, Sam? Will you help me cure the world?"

Sam's face became sad, his demeanor caving. His mouth twitched into a frown as tears sprung into his eyes. He looked up at Lucifer as he made his choice.

Sam's mouth twisted into a snarl as hate filled his wet eyes. "Go to hell."

Lucifer sighed. "What if I heal your brother?"

Sam frowned in confusion. "Heal my brother?"

"From hepatitis," said Lucifer. He raised his hand, and Dean began coughing up blood. He doubled over, spitting blood on the floor. When he straightened back up, his skin and eyes were extremely jaundiced.

Sam winced as tears welled from his eyes. "No."

"What about your father? Sickle-cell anemia?"

John groaned in pain as Lucifer raised his hand. John grabbed his chest as his face twisted in agony.

Sam's chin trembled. "No."

"Tuberculosis," said Lucifer. He raised his hand, and Sammy began coughing. Sam doubled over as the tuberculosis affected him, too. His lungs felt like they were on fire, and blood ran down his lips. He fell to his knees as he tried to keep his gun on Lucifer.

"No," Sam coughed.

"Tetanus," said Lucifer. He raised his hand, and a cut appeared on Young Dean's face. His face was then pressed to the rusty wall behind him. A yell ripped from Dean's throat as every muscle in his body locked up. His back arched as he fell to the floor, his legs and arms curling in on themselves.

"No," said Sam, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hypothermia," said Lucifer as he raised his hand. Bobby's skin turned from peach to pale white. His limbs began shaking as his breathing hitched.

"Let them go," Sam begged.

"Okay," said Lucifer. He raised his hand. Dean's skin faded back to pink as he stood up. John stopped groaning. The cut from Young Dean's face disappeared. Sammy stopped coughing. Bobby's skin colored up as he stopped shaking. Sam stood up as he stared at Lucifer. "See? I will give you anything you want. Anything at all."

Sam aimed his gun at Lucifer. "I want you dead." Sam moved until he and Lucifer were standing parallel to the others.

"That gun won't work," Lucifer told him.

"No, it won't," said Sam. He smiled. "But I know what will."

"Do you really want to do that?" asked Lucifer. "So they can see what you've become?" Sam's eyes ticked over to the others quickly before settling back on Lucifer. "Will they still love you? Will they be able to look at you? Sam, I will never judge you."

Sam looked down at the floor. His gun hand began to waver as a frown made its way onto his face. Would they judge him? He knows how Dean feels about the whole psychic-demon blood thing. Every time Sam used his powers, Dean always looked at him with slight fear. And what about Dad? His whole warning of "if you can't save him, kill him" had reverberated in his head for the past year. Is this what he had become? Just another monster to be killed?

"Sammy," said Dean. Sam turned his head to glance at Dean. Dean was giving him a determined look. "You do this." Sam frowned at him. "Your abilities are a gift. You do this. You save the world. You are my brother, and I will never judge you."

"Do it, son," said John. Sam looked at him. "Whatever you have to do…do it. You save us."

Sam looked back at Dean with tears in his eyes.

"You show him, Sammy," said Dean.

Sam looked back at Lucifer with hate in his eyes. He dropped the gun and flung his hand out, sending Lucifer flying into the wall. Lucifer stood up and tried to move towards Sam, but was unable to move. Sam dropped his hand, keeping a hold on Lucifer and severing Lucifer's hold on the others. The chains came undone and they removed the cuffs.

"Sam…" said Lucifer calmly. "You don't really want this."

"No," said Sam. "I really think I do."

Sam raised his hand again, throwing his power at Lucifer. Lucifer convulsed as Sam closed his fist, pain radiating through his being. Lucifer's eyes rolled up into his head as Sam glared at him. After a moment, Sam dropped his hand.

"Having fun, Sam?" panted Lucifer.

"I'm just showing you the pain you've put humanity through," said Sam. "It hurts, doesn't it?" Lucifer looked up at him, not even trying to hide the hate in his eyes this time. "But don't worry. You won't be able to hurt anyone ever again."

Sam raised his hand, palm out, and concentrated. Lucifer began to glow from the inside as Sam grimaced in pain. Sam closed his eyes, practically grunting in effort as Lucifer yelled. Blood ran down from Sam's nose as he struggled to kill Lucifer. As the pain peaked, Sam dropped his hand and grabbed his head. Lucifer was too strong; he couldn't do it.

"Well, Sammy," said Lucifer with a smile. "If you can't beat 'em…"

Sam panted as he glared at Lucifer. A hand clasped onto his chest above his heart, and he looked over to see Dean standing next to him.

"I'm here with you," said Dean. "You can do it."

Sam stared at him, a slight smile playing across his face. "Are you sure? 'Cause this is gonna hurt like hell."

Dean smirked. "I'm sure. Do it."

Sam clasped his hand onto Dean's, drawing strength from his brother. As he drew energy from his brother, he was surprised at how…right it felt. It didn't feel wrong like when he used his abilities. It was like…this was what his abilities were meant for…killing Lucifer.

As Dean wavered next to Sam and tightened his grip on his brother to remain upright, Sam looked over at Lucifer and threw his hand up, throwing his and his brother's power and strength at the devil. Lucifer lit up from the inside, glowing intensely bright. He yelled in pain as Sam concentrated. With a giant explosion of light, the empty body fell to the floor. Sam lowered his hand, letting out a huff of breath. They had done it. Lucifer was dead. The apocalypse was over.

"We…did it," Dean breathed out, completely exhausted. "Take that…bitch."

Sam's eyes rolled up in his head, and he fell towards the ground.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted. He rushed over and caught Sam before he hit the floor. "No, Sammy! Sammy!"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Dean sat next to Sam, who lay in one of the beds in Bobby's house. Sam was deathly pale, and he hadn't moved since his collapse at the warehouse, save for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. That had been two days ago, and Sam was still in unconscious. His vitals were dropping, and his breathing was becoming more erratic. If this kept up, they'd have to get Sam to the hospital for medical treatment. Dean didn't know what to do. What if he lost Sammy again? They'd just ended the apocalypse; he couldn't lose him now.

"Dean!" Young Dean called up the stairs. "There's someone here to see you!"

Dean frowned. _Who would be here to see me?_

He got up and walked down the stairs. Castiel stood in the living room with a young man, surrounded by Bobby, Young Dean, Sammy and John. The stranger was…different somehow. He looked young, but his face appeared to carry the wisdom of ages. He smiled at Dean, and a peace flowed through Dean as he entered the living room.

"Hey, Cas," said Dean. "Is this another of your angel buddies?"

"No," said Castiel.

Dean did a double-take, staring at Castiel. _Since when did he smile?_

"You can have this back," said Castiel, lifting Dean's amulet and putting it in his hand. "I found him."

"You found him?" asked Dean. He looked down to see the amulet glowing. He looked up at the stranger. "You…You're God?"

"Yes, my son," said the stranger. "It is I." He placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. "You have done well. You offered your brother the comfort and strength that he needed to save this planet. And for your service…you will be rewarded."

"Rewarded?" asked Dean.

God nodded over Dean's shoulder. Dean turned to see three new people standing in the room. John was standing by the doorway, his arm around Mary. Jessica stood next to them.

"Mom?" asked Dean as he slowly approached them. "Dad?"

"Dean…" said John as he placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, beaming at him. He looked just like the last time Dean saw him in the cemetery two years ago. "I'm so proud of you. You looked after your brother and saved him from becoming something else. I've never been prouder of you."

Dean smiled as he pulled John into a hug. He broke apart and looked at Mary, who placed a hand on his cheek.

"Dean," said Mary. "I love you. You've done well."

"I love you, too, Mom," said Dean. He hugged Mary, tears in his eyes. He broke apart and looked at Jess.

"Boy, Sammy's gonna be surprised to see you," said Dean with a smile. He froze as his gaze drifted up the stairs. "Sammy…" Dean looked at God, who smiled at him.

"Of course I will reward your brother," said God. He looked up at the second floor and gracefully made his way up the stairs. Dean followed close behind, the others bringing up the rear. God walked into Sam's bedroom, approaching the still form underneath the covers. God sat down on the edge of the bed, trailing a hand over Sam's face. Past John, Young Dean, Sammy, Mary and John stood at the foot of the bed with Dean. Bobby, Castiel and Jess stood in the doorway, waiting.

"Well done, good and faithful servant," God told Sam. He then placed his hand over Sam's heart and closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened his eyes and stood up. There was still no reaction from Sam.

"What happened?" asked Dean frantically. "Did it work? Why isn't he—"

"Relax," God told him, and peace flowed through Dean's veins once again. "Your brother is healed. The demon blood is gone…all of it." Dean looked over at Sam, noticing that color had returned to his face. "But his body and mind have been through much. He needs time to recuperate. He is asleep, and will wake soon. But right now, he needs rest. He will be perfectly fine."

"Are you sure he's not still in the coma?" asked Dean. A murmur came from the bed, and Sam rolled over onto his side, getting comfortable in his sleep. Dean smiled.

"I'm sure," said God. He looked at Past John, Young Dean, Sammy and Bobby. "I must ask something of you."

"Sure, anything," said Past John.

"I must ask you to permit me to wipe your memories of the past week," said God. "Fate must play out this way. I regret that I have to put you through this pain and suffering…but it must be done to defeat Lucifer. Do you understand?"

Sammy looked down at Sam on the bed, knowing just what the next two decades would bring him. "Yes, we understand." Young Dean nodded as Past John did, also.

"Your memories will be returned in time," said God. He looked at Past John. "When you pass on, you will remember this week." He looked at the younger boys. "The two of you will never remember this week. You will only know of it when you come to this time." He looked at the older boys, and then back at others. "When Castiel takes Sam and Dean back, your memories will be erased. Do you agree?"

"Yes," said Past John as the three others nodded.

"Thank you," said God. He turned to Jessica. "I wish the two of you a long, happy life." Jessica nodded. God looked at Dean. "Lisa will be waiting for you upon your return."

"What?" asked Dean.

"Lisa has been looking for you for the past few weeks," said God. "Ever since she found out you were back, she has wanted to tell you something. She is waiting at the diner across the street from your motel."

"Thanks," said Dean, knowing he was getting his chance at a normal life.

God turned to leave the room, but paused at the door. "Oh, and the doctors messed up the blood test. Ben is your son."

Dean stared at him. "What?"

"You are Ben's father," said God. "The doctors screwed up. He's your son."

Dean took this in, shocked. He smiled. "Well, that explains a lot. Does Lisa know?"

"She found out shortly after your encounter two years ago," said God. "This is what she wants to tell you."

"Thank you," Dean repeated.

"You're welcome, my son," said God. With that, he stepped out the door and was gone.

Jessica stepped into the room and walked over to Sam. She knelt down beside the bed, lifted his head from the scrunched position it was in, and placed it on the pillow. She placed her other hand on his head, swiping his hair from his face. Sam leaned into her touch, breathing deeply.

"Jess…" Sam muttered. Jessica smiled at him. She placed her hand on his, leaning close.

"I'm here, Sam," Jessica told him.

Sam frowned in his sleep as he wrapped his hand around hers. "I miss you…"

"I miss you, too," said Jessica. She stroked his face. "Rest now. I'll see you in the morning."

Sam settled into his pillow. "Okay…" He dropped his hand as his face relaxed.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Sam lifted his head up as he slowly opened his eyes. He frowned at the room he was in.

_Since when did we get back to Bobby's? The last thing I remember was…Oh, gosh, Dean!_

Sam threw the covers off of him and jumped out of bed. He rushed into the hallway and down the stairs.

"Dean!" Sam called as he reached the first floor. Dean came running into the hallway, stopping Sam in his tracks.

"Sammy!" Dean called.

"Dean, where is he?" asked Sam. "Lucifer was here. He's gonna—"

"He's dead, Sam!" Dean told him. "We killed him, remember?"

Slowly, the memory came back to him: Dean's offer of strength, his father's acceptance of his abilities, Lucifer crumpling under Sam's power.

Sam slowly relaxed. "Right…Right, we killed him. How did we get here?"

"After you passed out, we brought you back here. That was three days ago. We almost lost you. But, uh…well, why don't I show you?" Dean began leading Sam towards the kitchen. "Now, don't freak out when you see them. And, yes, it really is her."

"Them?" asked Sam, confused. "Her?"

Sam entered the kitchen to find Past John, Young Dean, Sammy and Bobby at the table, but there were three others that couldn't possibly be there. Sam stood in shock as Mary, John and Jessica came over to him.

"Jess?" asked Sam.

"Yes, Sam," said Jessica. "It's me."

Sam looked over at Mary. "Mom?"

"Sam," said Mary. She hugged him, and tears fell down Sam's cheeks. "I'm sorry, Sam."

"No, don't be," said Sam, pulling away and looking into her face. "If you hadn't made that deal, Dean and I wouldn't be here in the first place. Then who knows what psychic kid would be around to make hell on earth." He laughed as Mary laughed a little, too.

John approached his son. "Hey, Sammy." He placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so proud of you. You did the right thing. You did good." He wrapped Sam in a hug.

As they pulled apart, Sam looked at Jessica. He walked over to her and pulled her into a hug.

"I missed you so much," said Sam.

"I missed you, too," said Jess.

"I'm so sorry," muttered Sam.

Jess pulled him away and placed a hand on his cheek. "Hey, it wasn't your fault. You didn't do this."

"I could have warned you."

"No, you couldn't. It was your first vision. You didn't know. I do not blame you. I love you."

"I love you, too," said Sam. He paused, frowning. He looked around at the others. "Hey, can we…go for a walk?"

"I'd like that," said Jessica.

Sam grabbed his jacket off a chair in the dining room, checking the pocket as he pulled it on. He grasped Jessica's hand, and they headed for the door. They walked away from the house until Sam suddenly stopped.

"Sam?" asked Jessica. "What is it?"

Sam smiled a little. "I've been practicing this for five years." He turned to her, clasping her hands in his. "Jessica…I've loved you from the first moment I saw you…and I've been crazy about you ever since. I couldn't imagine another day without you."

Jessica stared at him. "Sam, what's going on?"

Sam smiled as he dug in the pocket on the chest of his jacket. He pulled out a silver band with a diamond on top of it. Jessica's eyes widened as she looked at it, and then up at Sam. Sam slid down onto one knee, holding the ring up in front of him.

"Jess…will you marry me?" asked Sam.

Jessica smiled, tears in her eyes. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."

Sam smiled hugely as he slipped the ring onto her finger. He stood up and wrapped his arms around Jessica, gently placing passionate kisses on her lips.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dean moved to the window after Sam and Jessica left, watching them.

_What is that boy up to?_

He watched as Sam turned to Jessica, a smile on his face. He began digging in his pocket and pulled something out. It was too small to see from this distant, but then Sam got down on one knee.

"Holy crap!" Dean exclaimed.

"What?" asked Past John.

"He's proposing!" Dean told them.

"He is?" asked Young Dean.

"Yeah, before Jess died, he'd been shopping for rings," Dean told them. "I guess he found one. He must've kept it all these years." He watched as Sam slid the ring onto Jessica's finger and then started kissing her. "'Atta boy, Sammy. You finally got to pop the question."

"What'd she say?" asked Past John.

Dean smiled at them. "He's engaged."

"Are you sure?" asked Mary.

"Well, based on the major kissage going on, I'd say yeah," said Dean. The door opened, and Sam and Jessica walked in. Dean came forward and hugged him. "Congratulations, Sammy!"

Sam hugged him back, and they pulled away. "You saw, didn't you?"

"Couldn't help it," said Dean. The others came forward to congratulate them, too.

"What about you?" asked Sam. "Did God reward you, or…" Dean frowned at him. "Jess told me everything."

"Uh, he said Lisa was waiting for me back in 2009," Dean told him. "And Ben is my son."

"Ben?" asked Sam. "Lisa's Ben?"

"Yeah," said Dean. "Apparently, the blood test was wrong."

"Congratulations, man," said Sam. "You're a father."

"You know what that makes you?" said Dean. "Uncle Sam." He laughed as Sam joined in.

"Hey, Dean," started Sam. "There's something I have to ask you." He hesitated. "Would…" He faltered. "Can…" He faltered again.

"Man, whatever it is, just spit it out," Dean told him. "Anything you want."

Sam smiled. "In that case…would you be my best man?"

Dean smiled. "Are you kidding? I'd love to!"

Sam looked at John. "And…Jess's parents aren't exactly in the picture anymore, so—"

"I'd be honored to give her away," said John.

Jessica smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Winchester."

"Please," said John. "Call me Dad."

"Okay…Dad," said Jessica.

"I mean, after all, in a few…what, weeks? Months?" asked John.

Sam smiled at Jessica. "Weeks."

"Weeks…you'll be my daughter-in-law," said John.

Castiel appeared in the room. "Are you ready to go back?"

"Yeah," said Dean. "We're ready." He turned to Young Dean. "Now, you look after him." Dean pointed at Sammy. "Don't make me come back here."

Young Dean laughed. "Same to you."

"Thanks, guys," Sam told the people from the past. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"See you in twenty years," said Past John.

"We will," said Dean.

There was a bright flash of light, and the six of them found themselves in the motel room Dean and Sam had been staying at.

"We're back?" asked Sam.

"Yes," said Castiel.

"Well," said Dean as he looked at Sam, Jessica, Mary and John. "If you'll excuse me…" He opened the door and spotted Lisa sitting with their son in a booth at the diner across the street. "I have a future to get to."


	7. Chapter 7

**WARNING!**

**Public service announcement!**

I am not quitting fanfiction! I am currently working on printing and binding my current stories for my storage. When I am finished with that, I will work on my stories again.

I will first do a songfic (my first one). Then a season three story. Then a mermaid story. Then Don't You Cry No More 3. Then The Winchester That Wasn't 2. I'm excited about all of them!

I'll see you guys in a few weeks!


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